


i started sleeping after i met you (because meeting you was a dream)

by jinhoes



Category: Pentagon (Korean Band)
Genre: Kinda Fluffy, M/M, double shifts are hell, edawn and hui want a break, fast food au, i guess, i wrote this when i was up too late and here it is, jinho and hui are friends, kino is an overworked college student, whatever it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 18:16:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9337256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinhoes/pseuds/jinhoes
Summary: Hyojong works the night shift and Hwitaek can't stay asleep.





	

It’s three in the morning and Hyojong is seriously questioning every choice he’s made that’s led to this.

 

It’s three in the morning and he’s been standing behind the counter of this fast food restaurant for over an hour without anyone coming in, a lull even for the late night crowd. He’s tired as all hell and half wants to collapse behind the counter and nap, but knowing his luck that would be the exact time that someone would enter the front doors.

 

His coworker, Hyunggu, isn’t doing much better, and he knows this because the kid is laying down in a booth with cleaning supplies nearby. He really shouldn’t be letting him do that, being older and his superior, but this was his second shift today and Hyojong sympathizes more than he should have.

 

It’s three in the morning on a Tuesday and Hyojong wants to sleep, knowing he probably looks like he wants to, but he tells himself there’s only five hours to go and that drives him onward.

 

It’s three in the morning, and he sees car lights park outside the front windows of the fast food joint.

 

He groans, straightening up and feeling his back pop as it’s released from his slouching position. “Hyunggu!” he calls, and the boy sits up slow, blinking his eyes open like it’s taking a lot more effort than it probably is, because he’s a brat and he knows Hyojong has a soft spot for him. He doesn’t care, as long Hyunggu gets up and looks like he’s doing something productive while the customer’s inside then that’s what matters.

 

The man who walks through the front doors doesn’t look like the sort of person who would be coming in at this time for fast food. Normally, the people they get this late are groups of partiers, or drunks, or adults in suits who are going home from a long day at work. This man is alone, and appears about as tired as Hyojong feels. He’s wearing flannel pants and a loose, plain colored t-shirt that makes Hyojong think that he’s just shown up in his pajamas. Not incredibly abnormal, honestly, for customers at this time of night.

 

“How can I help you?” Hyojong asks, clearing his throat and standing behind the register, fingers poised to type on the computer. The man starts, directing his gaze down from the menu and to Hyojong like he someone hadn’t comprehended the other man’s presence while standing there. Hyojong wonders if he’s on drugs or something. Would definitely explain the late night visit.

 

“Sorry,” the man apologizes, giving an awkward laugh. “I- yeah, sorry. Two plain cheeseburgers and a large fry. With water.”

 

“No problem,” Hyojong says, watching Hyunggu move behind the counter and get to work in the kitchen. “Is that all?” he asked, and the man nodded, pulling out his wallet for payment. Hyojong is just about to read the price off to him when there’s sound like change falling to the floor, and he watches the man scramble for all the money he’s just accidentally dropped on the ground. It’s a little funny, but he doesn’t dare laugh.

 

“Late night?” he asks instead, and the man laughs, this time less awkward and more humored.

 

“Yeah, you could say that,” he says, straightening up and trying to organize his money in his hands. “How much was it again?”

 

Hyojong hadn’t said the total in the first place, but didn’t correct him. He reads it off and the customer hands him some unorganized bills that he sorts into the register.

 

As Hyojong turns to grab him a cup, he makes small talk. “What’s got you out so late?” he asks, figuring it was a safe question.

 

“I woke up two hours ago and I have a shift in two hours, so I figured I could get greasy food for myself,” the guy says, taking the cup from Hyojong but not going to fill it yet. “And a water, to cancel the calories.”

 

Hyojong laughs, humored at the logic there. “Makes sense.” The stranger has a nice smile, the kind that makes him want to mimic it. Hyunggu comes around from the kitchen and sets the food down with a take out bag, and the stranger nods thankfully.

 

“Have a good night!” he says, and Hyojong responds with a polite, “You too!” while the door jingles, closing behind his back.

 

Hyunggu drops his face into his hands at the counter and sighs heavily. “How much longer, hyung?” he whines, and Hyojong rolls his eyes before nudging him in the side.

 

“Don’t take double shifts next time you have college,” he advises pointedly, and Hyunggu groans in regret.

 

\---

 

Hyojong hasn’t given the customer a second thought in the following few days, having no reasons to do so. Hyunggu starts taking single shifts instead of doubles, and Hyojong’s own doubles start to drag on when he has Hyunggu switched out for Jinho halfway through his day. The older man is nice enough, and Hyojong definitely likes his company, but he’s less energetic than the hyperactive college student Hyojong is used to spending his nights with and it really contributes to the general soul-sucking atmosphere the fast food restaurant contains.

 

More people come in late on weekends, and so the lull is practically nonexistent when the bell chimes at two in the morning, signifying another customer being admitted. Jinho is in the kitchen cleaning the fryers, and Hyojong is at the counter as per usual. So he recognizes the figure walking in fairly quickly.

 

“Can’t sleep again?” he asks the customer, who smiles sheepishly and shakes his head. He’s wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants, and slippers on his feet like he’d slipped on the nearest thing before driving, and his hair is a little out of place. He feels a smile grow on his lips before he can stop it. “What are you going to order?”

 

The man before him glances up at the menu, scratching at the back of his neck like he’s thinking. “Coffee and a burger.”

 

“Not going to try to go back to sleep?” Hyojong asks pointedly, inputting the order in the computer, and the man laughs.

 

“No, I guess not.”

 

“Is that Hwitaek?” Jinho’s voice calls from the kitchen, and Hyojong is confused until he sees the customer’s face light up and hears Jinho’s footsteps walk up to the counter. The older of them has a grin on his face, and shakes his head. “What are you doing up? Don’t you have work in like, three hours?”

 

“Couldn’t sleep,” says the customer (Hwitaek, Hyojong locks away in his mind for future reference). “I thought you didn’t work night shifts?”

 

“I traded with one of the college students,” Jinho supplies in answer. He looks at Hyojong like he’s just remembering his co-worker in there, and Hyojong does kind of feel like an outsider. “Sorry to interrupt, but Hwitaek and I have been friends since school.”

 

“Huh,” says Hyojong, and figures that puts Hwitaek as older than him. Not that that matters too much. He has no idea why that’s an important fact in his mind. He rings up the register and gives the price while Jinho moves back into the kitchen. “How old are you, Hwitaek?”

 

Hwitaek hands up his money, exact change and everything (who does that anymore, besides middle aged mothers?). He shrugs. “I’m a year younger than Jinho,” he says, and the soft smile on his face is just as addicting and contagious as Hyojong remembers. “You? Hyojong, right?”

 

“Yeah,” Hyojong confirms, turning to the coffee machine. “I’m three years younger. Just black coffee?”

 

“Black, please,” Hwitaek says. “Ah, I guess that means you’ll have to call me hyung then.”

 

Hyojong snorts, nearly spilling the coffee he’s pouring in the process. “No offense Hwitaek, but I don’t know if seeing a person twice in a professional setting qualifies for calling you hyung.”

 

“Maybe,” Hwitaek says, taking the coffee as Hyojong hands it to him. He notices the older hold it in his hands like he’s warming them, the cup close to his sweatshirted chest with steam rising out of the lid, and almost shakes his head at thinking that he looked cozy. “Sorry, was that rude?”

 

“I’ll forgive you, since you look half asleep,” Hyojong says, half-smiling. He’s about to say something else when Jinho appears, setting the small take out bag on the counter, presumably holding the burger Hui had ordered.

 

“Don’t work too hard,” Jinho advises, and Hwitaek nods firmly.

 

“You got it, hyung.” He takes the bag from the counter and waves with the same hand. “Goodnight, Jinho. Goodnight, Hyojong!”

 

“Goodnight!” the pair chime, Jinho with a wave back and Hyojong with a nod. When the door closes behind him, Jinho gives Hyojong an unimpressed look and walks back towards the kitchen.

 

“What?” Hyojong asks, taken by surprise.

 

“If you don’t know yet, you will soon,” Jinho says, and the words are annoying enough to make Hyojong want to grill him for further explanation, but a loud group of boys enters the restaurant with such perfect timing he wants to swear the older had planned it.

 

“Can I help you?” he asks at the register, putting on a smile that he hopes doesn’t leave an image like he would rather be anywhere but talking to them.

 

\---

 

He sees Hwitaek many more times in the coming weeks. It appears that the guy regularly has sleepless or very low sleep nights, because the visits are at least twice a week, usually more, always between one and three in the morning. 

 

Hyojong learns that he has two full time jobs, one from five in the morning to one in the afternoon, and another from two in the afternoon to ten at night. It’s mind boggling to Hyojong, and he can’t figure out why he would choose to juggle them together (as if he doesn’t work double shifts, and the same amount of hours). He works as a waiter at a restaurant across town for one job, and as a busboy at another restaurant for the other.

 

Hwitaek takes to eating in the restaurant and talking to Jinho and Hyojong when he comes in. Today though, Jinho is home sick and Hyunggu is filling in, with break setting in for college. Hyojong’s break time just happens to fit in with the time Hwitaek shows up and they sit together, Hwitaek eating a large fry while Hyojong sips idly at a water.

 

It’s three in the morning and Hwitaek is telling a story about his college roommate that makes Hyojong almost spit out his water on the table.

 

It’s three in the morning and Hwitaek has a really nice smile that makes his eyes crinkle and turn into crescents and Hyojong’s stupid brain won’t stop likening them to the moon.

 

It’s three in the morning and they’re sitting in a gross booth in a restaurant that smells like bad food and Hyojong doesn’t even mind that he’s at work, and he’s been wearing this uniform for eleven hours.

 

Hwitaek stays an extra half hour after he finishes eating his food, and Hyojong thinks that half hour is one of the best he’s had at this job.

 

He pretends to ignore Hyunggu’s pointed, amused looks staring holes in his skull when he gets back behind the counter. He can’t ignore the light feeling in his heart that carries him through the rest of his shift.

 

\---

 

Hwitaek comes in on a Wednesday evening, and Hyojong is so startled to see him in daylight that he almost questions if it’s truly him. But it’s the same eye smile that greets him when he walks forward in the line, and the same voice that asks, “You okay? You look surprised.”

 

“I’m surprised to see you before midnight,” Hyojong said honestly, and the laugh he got was light and nice to hear. “What do you want, hyung?”

 

Hwitaek perks up a little, before Hyojong can think through his words. “Did you just call me hyung?” he asks, and Hyojong takes a second to backtrack his thoughts.

 

“... No,” he says lamely, and Hwitaek snickers. 

 

“Okay,” Hwitaek responds, not putting emphasis on Hyojong’s slip of tongue beyond a wider smile. He gives his order and Hyojong enters it into the register.

 

“I’ll be on break in like, five minutes,” he informs Hwitaek, who grins.

 

“Sounds good to me. Come sit with me when you’re off.” As if Hyojong had a better plan, or any other plan for that matter.

 

A few minutes later, Hyojong takes a seat across Hwitaek’s table and steals a few of his fries, earning a disappointed look from Hwitaek that makes him snicker.

 

“I paid for those,” says Hwitaek, not even able to keep his face straight and stern, and Hyojong shrugs.

 

“I’ve been working. Why are you here?”

 

Hwitaek lets out a breathy laugh. “What, you aren’t happy to see me?” he asks, setting to work on his own food. Hyojong rolls his eyes.

 

“Yah, you know what I mean.”

 

“I didn’t know I needed a reason to come to a fast food restaurant during the day,” Hwitaek further patronizes, and Hyojong hits his arm lightly to get him to cut to the chase. Hwitaek sighs dramatically. “I called in on both jobs today. Vacation day.”

 

“And your idea of a vacation day was to come to the same gross restaurant at a new time?” Hyojong deadpans, and Hwitaek snorts,  mouth full of fries. “Man, you really used your day off well.”

 

“I think so,” Hwitaek says, covering his mouth, whether to conceal a grin or his food Hyojong wasn’t sure. “I actually got dressed and everything to come in.”

 

“Jinho will be upset you didn’t come on his shift,” Hyojong comments, stealing another fry. Hwitaek shrugs, looking down at the table.

 

“I came on your shift, that’s what matters.”

 

Hyojong’s heart stutters and he thinks, for the first time, that he may understand what’s going on here.

 

\---

 

It’s two weeks later, and Hyojong is antsy at the counter, glancing at the door with increasing regularity like he’s been doing the last few nights, each hour that passes making him more anxious. Why, he wonders, after all this time, does he not have Hwitaek’s phone number?

 

“He’s been sick, I told you that on Monday,” Jinho says, looking up at Hyojong from the other side of the counter. He’d been slowly cleaning the floors over the last half hour or so. The first time Hyojong had mentioned that Hwitaek hadn’t come in in a while, Jinho had been more sympathetic. Now, he just seems annoyed.

 

“I know,” Hyojong insists, looking Jinho in the face. “He’s been sick for two weeks, though?”

 

“Not that long,” Jinho says, as he already has several times. “More like a week. I’m sure he’ll be better by the weekend, don’t worry.” The way he looks Hyojong over says he knows that Hyojong is concerned about him for more reasons than just friendship, and the younger flushes without meaning to.

 

Another customer comes through the door and Hyojong and Jinho deal with her, a tired looking older woman in a dress suit who had probably just got off work. They give her her carryout, and she’s gone within a few minutes, holding open the door for another customer- one Hyojong instantly recognizes.

 

“What are you doing awake?” Jinho asks, leaning around the corner of the kitchen. “You should be resting!”

 

“Couldn’t sleep,” Hwitaek admits, brushing his fingers through his hair. He definitely looks tired, the sick kind of tired that makes Hyojong’s eyes feel drowsy just on sight of him. He’s wearing a sweatshirt that appears to almost swallow him, and winkled, dark sweatpants. The smile he gives Hyojong is in opposition with his tiredness, a bright and sincere and wide grin. “Hey, how are you?”

 

“I’m great, you’re the one who’s been sick,” Hyojong points out, leaning forward on the counter.

 

“I think you scared him half to death,” Jinho says teasingly, and Hyojong throws him an annoyed look.

 

Hwitaek winces, an action so sincere Hyojong gives him his full attention without even meaning to. “I’m sorry to worry you.”

 

“It’s fine,” Hyojong assures hurriedly, and the look Hwitaek sends him in turn is doubtful. “Seriously. It’s not your fault you got sick. You should eat better.”

 

Hwitaek laughs, short, loud sounds that echo through the empty restaurant. “Yeah, maybe I should. But for right now, I want french fries.”

 

Hyojong laughs back, and rings him up while Jinho goes to the fryer in the kitchen and gets to work. “Are you feeling better?”

 

There’s a funny look on Hwitaek’s face, and the way he watches Hyojong while he thinks almost makes the employee uncomfortable. But it’s over within a few seconds, and Hwitaek diverts his gaze with a light expression. “Yeah, I think so.”

 

Hyojong struggles with himself a few moments, and then sighs and snatches a napkin from the counter, with such roughness he sees Hwitaek jump. The action amuses and endears him to the older instantly, even as he uncaps a pen and starts to write.

 

“What are you doing?” Hwitaek asks, confusion and curiosity evidently taking hold. Hyojong sets the pen down and holds out the napkin, hoping his face isn’t as red as he fears it is because this is a normal action, this is something they could have done a month ago.

 

“My phone number,” Hyojong explains, and waves the napkin when Hwitaek just stares instead of taking it. “When you feel better, maybe we could go do something. Or if you need something before you get better, you can let me know.”

 

He thinks the blooming smile on Hwitaek’s face, accompanied by a blush on his cheeks, is incredibly attractive.

 

\---

 

It’s three a.m. a month later, a Sunday, and Hyojong is sitting on Hwitaek’s couch as a movie plays in front of him, flashing pictures before his eyes. They’d muted it a while before, when it’d begun to get in the way of talking. But now they’re quiet too, the only sounds Hyojong and Hwitaek’s light breathing as they sit on the couch, squished tight together on the account of tight space and affection.

 

Hwitaek has his cheek on top of Hyojong’s head and Hyojong traces his fingers over the back of Hwitaek’s hand. Hwitaek has no work that morning, and Hyojong had called in for the day before, once they’d designated this time to be spent together.

 

“It’s late,” Hwitaek hums, and Hyojong laughs lightly, a sound that sets off the older too.

 

“I think three in the morning is a normal time for us to be awake,” Hyojong says, and knows Hwitaek agrees.

 

“Maybe we should go get something to eat,” Hwitaek adds, and his laugh vibrates in his chest, transferring into Hyojong and making him grin, even well trying not to.

 

“No greasy food,” Hyojong insists, adamant.

 

“No greasy food,” Hwitaek agrees.

 

It’s three in the morning and Hyojong is awake, but he’s content.. Especially when Hwitaek smiles like that, or looks at him like that, or makes him feel a deep and profound calmness like he does.

  
It’s three in the morning and Hyojong regrets absolutely nothing that led to any of this.

**Author's Note:**

> [my listography!](http://listography.com/jinhoes?m=6404158689)
> 
>  
> 
> yell at me about ptg and my writing on [my twitter](https://twitter.com/jin_hoes) or [my tumblr](http://jin-hoes.tumblr.com)


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